Dangerous games
by Willow866
Summary: This story follows Ajaht-Litsom-Esth, an infiltrator, and assassin. It is dedicated to a good friend of mine, Adam Heap. Although I haven't decided how far to take the story. If it gets enough likes I may make it full length.
1. Chapter 1

I cursed in annoyance as I looked out over the top of the human building. As the last of the feathers from my owl morph disappeared, I took a moment to examine my surroundings with the creature's incredible eyes. I was starting to appreciate some of the creatures on this planet.

A winding road and a thick, dense forest carried on for miles in the distance. Apparently, these humans ran a wildlife preserve, more to protect themselves than the actual animals, I assumed. I had to admit, it was an intelligent tactic too, if you wanted to avoid notice. Luckily, traversing the forest hadn't proved too bothersome, as I had flown in.

I had left my eyes for last during the morphing process. Owl eyes were incredibly useful on nights like these. As my Andalite vision returned I could see it was frightfully dark, but the human mansion was still illuminated by a blanket of bright twinkling stars and their single moon, full in its rotation.

I abhorred the human constructs, but at least this one was far enough away from the massive cities that it avoided the light pollution of the human nightlife. As I stepped forward carefully, I heard a gentle hum and a ticking sound. My stalk eyes snapped in the direction of the sound. Glinting in the moonlight lay circular metal contraptions with timers ticking down from ten. The small explosives must have been motion detecting. There was no time to climb down the mansion, I would have to jump.

I sprinted towards the edge of the roof and I leapt over the side, launching myself into the air. I could still hear the ticking of the timers. As I tumbled into the sky, there was an earth-shattering explosion and I could feel ferocious heat on my back, but the fire was the least of my worries. The ground was approaching me quickly, and I couldn't afford the inconvenience of a broken leg right now.

With some effort, I grabbed a tree branch not ten feet off the ground with both hands, the skin on my palms tearing from the effort. I was only able to hold myself for a few seconds before releasing, and landing on the grass with much more gracefulness than expected. My palms stung from the effort, but it was much better than a broken limb.

Blazing pieces of the building fell around me, some of it almost landing directly on me as I jumped aside. Thick black smoke rose upward and into the sky, partially eclipsing a silvery moon. The scene would have been quite breathtaking, had I bothered to enjoy the night sky and the twisting of flame and smoke, as it mutilated the once peaceful view.

But I was too frustrated and angry to enjoy it. Anger clouded my mind, and the fiery display only served to fuel that anger. I could do nothing now, just sit by as the mansion was engulfed in torrents of flame. Clearly, the targets had not been home, and probably hadn't been for a while. I was suddenly annoyed at the waste of my time, but more so at my companion.

((Denen!)) I hissed through my communications implant, which was imbedded directly above my right ear. ((It appears they were expecting us. The entire place is rigged. Surveillance was your job Denen. You told me you had scoped the place out.))

I was reasonably angry, but I tried not to make my tone sound to accusatory. After all, Denen was a great partner, and I usually checked out his intel beforehand. I was tired though, from the journey, and I had been lax and skipped over it this time. It had almost been a fatal mistake.

((Ajaht, I swear. My sources said they would be home tonight. Unless…))

((Unless?)) I prompted. ((Unless what?))

((Unless my last correspondence got intercepted.)) There was guilt coloring his tone as he spoke quickly, and I could almost picture him wincing, clearly knowing I would scold him. ((The line wasn't entirely secure. I was sure no one was listening in, and I didn't think…))

((Didn't think you had to follow protocol?)) I interrupted him, cursing. ((I was almost blown to pieces, Denen. Did your gut instincts tell you that? Your brilliant, fail safe instincts?)) I made sure to pour all the malice and condescension I could into my tone.

I had agreed to help Denen with this mark, and I was beginning to regret it. I had accepted the target, and once a target has been assigned, there is no backing out. I cursed again as I made my way around the side of the mansion. This was going to get messy. And I did not enjoy chasing down targets. A good kill, was quiet and clean. It was an art.

((I can't believe you dragged me out here with bad intel. The difference between a killer and a highly-trained assassin is a clear collected and calm mind.)) I echoed the words from Master Vohran's last session with me.

((I swear I didn't…)) Denen insisted. His thoughts cut off for a moment, then returned, urgently hissing through his communicator. ((Ajaht. Target is on the move. Guess he wanted to stay around and watch.))

((What?)) I sprinted around the side of the building. I could see a portion of the house lift, and I pressed myself into the shadows of the construct. A sleek black automobile emerged and turned, speeding off down the road.

((I'm on it.)) My tone betrayed the excitement in my thoughts, but I didn't care. It surprised me that I was looking forward to the chase. I had hidden my ground runner in the bushes up the road out of sight, and I raced for it.

((Target is on the move, eastbound and moving fast.))

((Cut them off a mile ahead, I'll come in from behind. If it is the target, I need confirmation.)) I ordered.

((Already on my way.))

I leapt into the runner, pulling my bandolier over my shoulder as I pulled out, speeding away from the burning remains of the mansion. The wind whipped at my face, but still I increased speed. It didn't take long for the black vehicle to come into view. The automobile was bulky, not nearly as aerodynamic as my runner, and I was catching it quickly.

An older human had leaned out of the window of the vehicle now, and he had a projectile gun aimed in my direction. It didn't frighten me, on the contrary, I knew my target was within reach. This was my marks personal bodyguard. I smirked triumphantly at him, pleased at the change of events. I unholstered my shredder.

Perhaps the night would not be a total waste after all, I thought, as I swerved craftily across the road, making it impossible to properly hit me and steer a vehicle at the same time.

Assassins of my skill, especially those of Andalite origin, didn't usually work in pairs, so the man was completely unprepared when a second Andalite on a runner moved in front of him and shot out the front tires of the vehicle. As a result, the black car fishtailed until it connected with a large oak, screeching to a halt and leaving an ugly skid mark in its wake.

Not a moment later, the bodyguard had somersaulted onto the street and started firing at Denen, but his first few shots were haphazard and missed their mark. It was a deadly mistake, and would cost the body guard his life. For before he was able to get a clean shot, I executed him, leaving a gaping wound in the man's skull. With a subdued thud, the body guard fell to the concrete, blood pouring from his mutilated head. And his employer was left all alone, defenseless and afraid.

Very carefully, the target slid out of his car, moving with all the grace of a wounded animal. It was more comical than evasive really, watching him crawl along the asphalt for the tree line. The man was very fat and dressed in bright artificial skin, making him stand out against the black of the road. The human was sweating profusely, with a look of terror on his face.

Denen stepped forward, shooting once into the sky, then twice in front of the male. He didn't kill the target, as he belonged to me. I had offered to help Denen, and I only needed one more kill to reach elite status within the guild.

((Not so fast, human.)) Denen said, clopping towards the trembling human at an unhurried pace. ((We have you. Your time would be better spent praying to whatever gods you worship, or saying your last goodbyes.))

Denen was about my size, but his fur was much darker, which I envied. My fur was a deep teal, much easier to see in the darkness. The muscles in his arms were just as strong as mine, as we had decided to strengthen them using the methods the males of this planet used.

"Please." The man was on his hands and knees, begging as they always did. It was a disgusting display. As I watched the trembling target start to blubber, tears making his face obscene and ugly. I promised myself then, that if I were ever to be assassinated or executed, I would neither beg nor cry. I would die beautifully and dignified, not some trembling wreck.

"Please, I have a wife," the mark continued, as I approached, a shredder in one hand. "I have children. They need me, my good sir. Please, have mercy. I am begging you."

((I can see that.)) I sneered, still feeling disgusted. ((But you aren't doing a very good job of it.)) The man began crawling towards me, redoubling his efforts. But I wanted no part of him to touch me, and I roughly kicked the target away, so that he lay on the ground, clutching his side. ((As for your wife and children, you have maintained a great amount of wealth.)) I began absentmindedly checking over my shredder, adjusting the settings. ((I assure you, they won't starve.))

((Now, why don't you face me like a proper male and accept your death in a dignified manner.)) I offered.

"Please! I have money! I am a millionaire! Wouldn't you like all your needs taken care of for the rest of your life?" He scrambled forward again, bowing his head forward, and I could see the human chose to remove part of his hair. Curious. "What about women? All the women you could want."

((Oh, look. We've caught ourselves a _Mokham_ Ajaht. What shall we wish for?)) Denen's tone was mocking and he laughed at the poor creature. ((Can I ask for more wishes? Or is that against the rules?))

((Don't tease the target.)) I snapped, turning my attention back towards the male. ((What would I want with human money?)) I pressed the shredder to the man's forehead, switching the mode to short range. ((Any last words? This pause is for your benefit, not ours.))

((You're still doing that? Put the poor man out of his misery already.)) Denen said in exasperation. He laughed knowingly, a laughter that could only be shared among close friends, cruel but kind all at once. ((You're quite the sentimental bastard, aren't you?))

I ignored him. ((What do you think? Are you going to waste the time I've given you?)) I pressed the shredder harder against the man's forehead, so it dug in.

"Please sir." The man's voice and demeanor was even more disgusting now, as he was a blubbering mess. "Please! For the love of god, have mercy."

((See. You're just torturing the poor guy, anyway. Put him down already. Besides, do you really think Master Vohran would approve of you getting all intimate with your targets?))

((Are you going to tell on me?)) I asked warily.

((No! Of course not!))

I looked down dejectedly at the poor man and realized, that Denen was right. That letting the poor man live a little longer with a shredder pressed against his skull was only serving to torture the creature.

The man continued to scream and plead over our conversation. His face was a mess of snot and tears and I cringed away in disgust. With a disgruntled sigh, I pulled the trigger, stepping back as a hole appeared in the man's skull. The target fell forward, with a grace unlike anything he had ever held in life, very much befitting of the dead, however.

((Call the cleanup crew, I'll meet you at the ship. I want off this horrid planet.)) I holstered my shredder and headed towards my runner. Denen looked as if he was about to object, but I hopped into the vehicle anyway. ((I did all the work. You can wait for the crew.))


	2. Chapter 2

I tucked away my shredder and stared up at the night's sky. Even on this planet, at night, if you looked to the sky you could almost imagine you were at home. Almost. The sky was still clouded with black smoke, bringing my attention back to the burning human mansion down the road.

((If we don't get this taken care of soon, that fire is going to spread to the rest of the reservation and could be costly. We are responsible for casualties and any unnecessary damages, after all.)) My thoughts were oddly quiet, and Denen knew me too well, as I could see he definitely noticed.

I turned away, heading towards my discarded ground runner. Within moments, I felt the familiar disturbance in the air only an Andalite would recognize. My main eyes snapped upwards, revealing a small Andalite craft against the backlit canopy of stars. It landed swiftly, and the crew quickly got to work.

It would be ruled an accident of course, and the humans would be none the wiser that we were ever here. I wanted it done quickly, however. If any human media were to get ahold of this event, it could get more expensive to keep quiet.

((Why so gloomy, brother?)) Denen teased, patting me affectionately on the back. ((You're at one hundred and fifty kills now! You have full agent status! Where will the next leaf go?)) Denen traced my back, hinting at the unfinished tattoo that covered most of my back and shoulders. ((This human was a class C target, so that means the face will be filled in, right?))

((Yes.)) I sighed, shrugging his hand off my back in annoyance. I pushed past him towards the ramp into the ship. He followed beside me, mirroring my steps, his eyes narrowed. I ignored him.

I knew I was being childish, but I didn't care. The human's blubbering had upset me, and I couldn't seem to shake an unpleasant feeling that was gnawing away at my hearts. Why did their last words always have to be "please" or "I'll do anything" or some offer of insignificant alien coin. Why couldn't my targets actually put their last minutes to good use. I was starting to find my business depressing, and not just because it involved murder. Really, it was the nature of my marks deaths that bothered me. The way they chose to die was usually pathetic, and oddly horrifying.

((Come on, don't be like that.)) Denen insisted, continuing to follow me through the small ship. We had been friends for years now, and Denen was always quick to decipher the reasons for my foul moods. ((So what if these humans are pitiful weaklings.)) He shrugged, a gesture ironically he had picked up from said humans. ((Who cares? You're officially a legend on campus! With this mark taken care of, you're now the youngest student to reach full agent status! We need to go and celebrate! Delavayi nectars on me of course.))

((I'm tired.)) I hissed, pressing my hand against the DNA scanner on the wall. The wall shimmered and disappeared, revealing my locker, containing my datapad, spare recharge cells for my shredder and my kit. I removed the datapad, powering it up with a gentle tap to the screen. ((I've been on this planet for less than an Andalite day, and I'm feeling a bit of lag.))

((Don't lie to me, brother.)) Denen demanded. ((You don't have to pretend in front of me. I get it. You feel bad for the old fool. You feel guilty. It happens to the best of us, there's no shame in it))

((For a human? I do not feel guilty.)) I snapped, but my tone was defensive and betrayed my true feelings. Quickly, I lowered the pad and turned away from Denen, heading towards my assigned quarters, hoping to avoid Denen's piercing gaze. ((I have to return to Andal tomorrow.)) I continued, entering the code into the panel next to my door. ((Master Vohran has requested my return immediately following this mission. He is increasing my hours on the sparring grounds, and since I'm a full agent now, they'll be giving me an apprentice to work with.))

((Oooh... an apprentice,)) Denen cooed, blocking my path through the doorway. ((So the student becomes the teacher. Master Vohran will be proud, I'm sure.)) I rolled my eyes at him, jerking my head in a gesture to leave. ((Oh come on. Aren't you the tiniest bit excited at all? Maybe just a little?)) Denen pinched the air with his thumb and forefinger, indicating what he meant by "Just a little."

((No.)) I said flatly, my frustration beginning to peak. Denen sighed, clearly frustrated by my stubbornness. ((As a full agent my caseload is about to double. And now, I have to teach some little idiot how to fight and kill? I honestly don't know how I'll fit that in with my training regimen.))

But there were other reasons for my foul mood and lack of enthusiasm. As everyone well knew, time with an apprentice meant time away from the field, and I wanted my Kriaskrith tattoo finished as soon as possible. Truth be told, I had no interest in pursuing murder as a career, and had only joined to give me an edge in the militant political arena. Our society had once been peaceful, but since the war began we quickly moved towards an increasingly militarised society. It was impossible to get a good position in our government without some military or combat experience, and working as an assassin was one way to gain that advantage.

Once I had finished my training and repaying my debt with a few more kills, I planned to get a job as a body guard to increase my connections in the Electorate, climbing the political power ladder as I went. I had it all planned out. Within the next twenty years I could earn myself a spot as an advisor to the War Council. Soon after, I planned to earn myself a seat on the council itself someday, due to Athtar-Ilicaryn-Taeral 's failing health.

I awoke, rubbing the sleep from my eyes with an irritated groan and headed across the grass towards my bathing chambers. My living quarters were quite small, consisting of only a small desk and barely enough room to fit a few Andalites. But soon, that would all change. Once my full agent status became official, I would be moved into one of the better quarters, with possibly even my own garden. The prospect was exciting, but daunting as well. I knew there would be perks to my new status, but a number of new responsibilities awaited me as well. I was already stressed out by my caseload, and now I had a young apprentice to deal with.

But I pushed the annoying thoughts aside and entered, intending to enjoy my morning shower. It wasn't unusual to go days without bathing while on the job, and I enjoyed the activity immensely as a result. As I stepped into bath, sinking up to my waist into the steaming rush of water, I sighed deeply and leaned against the glass wall. There, I remained and allowed the pelting droplets of water to massage my aching muscles. I preferred extra hot baths, and the warm water melted soothingly into my flesh and traversed into my core, where it consumed my entire being. As I began to lather myself with soap, I took in a deep breath, filling my lungs with luxurious steam. It was a heavenly experience and I was disappointed that I would have to bathe quickly.

Ten minutes later, I was heading across campus in my grey cloak. Andalites rarely wore clothing, but it was cold in the mountainous air, and my breath came in little puffs of steam, which rose a few inches into the sky before dissipating. At least though, it had yet to snow. I hated the cold, even more than I hated the human planet I had left. To escape the chilly grasp of the mountain, I quickly traversed past the dormitories and towards a large building with a red door. Inside, warmth quickly returned to me and I gratefully made my way down several hallways, until I reached Ilbryn's office.

((Ajaht,)) Ilbryn smiled at me, gesturing enthusiastically at me as I entered. ((Come in, cousin!))

Ilbryn served as the tattoo artist for our organization, and I found his eccentricities to be quite fitting for a man of his profession. Namely, several gold cuffs and rings adorned his body, as well as a bright golden sash around his waist. His head was decorated in a number of inked designs. He had a strange laugh too, which resembled a sort of wheeze, or a snore.

All along the walls of Ilbryn's office, there were a number of tattoo designs, some used as honorariums for particularly gifted assassins and others used for personal decoration. However, most of the designs depicted The creatures of the corresponding organizations. My eyes locked on the design of the Kriaskrith, A creature that had been extinct for a thousand years. The Kriaskrith was a large tree-climbing dragonlike lizard, able to swallow an Andalite whole. Its camouflage made the creature even more deadly. Leaflike scales covered its entire green body and feathers adorned its head and wings, allowing the creature to dive from the highest tree onto its unsuspecting prey. The Kriaskrith roared ferociously from its perch among the tall tree it clung to.

As a new assassin collected kills of varying difficulty, the base outline of their tattoo would be filled in, leaf by leaf. The dragon's eyes were the most prized portion of the tattoo and were only filled in when the trainee conducted a Class "A" Kill, completely on his own. I of course, had come to Ilbryn's office to receive another green leaf, in light of the human's assassination.

Familiar with the routine, I gracefully removed my cloak to reveal the unfinished Emerald dragon inked onto my own back. Most of the dragon was filled in by then, but the wings were still primarily outlines, to be filled in following fifty Class "B" kills, and the eye sockets of my dragon were still ugly and gaping. However, the face of the dragon, which was reserved for Class "C" kills, was missing only a single scale, to be filled in by Ilbryn this very morning. Once it was done, I would officially become the youngest assassin ever to reach full agent status. I stood in the center of the room in preparation, crossing my arms tight across my torso.

((You must be very excited,)) Ilbryn began, situating himself behind me. The tattoo artist's face revealed sincere happiness on my behalf, giving him almost a grandfather like appearance. For one with such an intimidating demeanor, he was always in a cheerful mood. ((I must admit, I am impressed. To be almost four years old and to have accomplished all that is quite a feat. You're smart, Ajaht, you'll go far.))

((Thank you, Ilbryn,)) I replied, unable to stop a smile from marring my cool features. Ilbryn's happy air was just too irresistibly addictive, and I couldn't help but share his enthusiasm. ((I appreciate all the support, but it was just another job.))

((Just another job? Oh come now,)) Ilbrn admonished, pressing the ink filled needle against my skin. I winced just a little, more from the cold of the metal than of the sharpness of its pointed tip. ((You should try to be a little more prideful, at least for the sake of your younger self,)) He insisted, filling in the green scale on my back. ((He would be thrilled to realize how far you have come. Such a terrified young one you were, and oblivious to your own skill. Do you remember when you were assigned to Master Vohran? I caught you crying in the courtyard. You thought you'd be killed within a week and...))

((Can we not talk about that?)) I hissed, disliking any mention of weakness.

Ilbryn grinned knowingly, but honored my request and finished his work. ((Fine,)) He teased. ((You know, to laugh at oneself is a sign of wisdom, and you'll need to assume the appearance of wisdom, at the very least, for the sake of your new apprentice. She's a fiesty one.))

((She?)) I replied in shock.


	3. Chapter 3

I stood frozen as Ilbryn tossed the used needle and gloves into the bin. He stepped aside, allowing me to appraise his work in a nearby mirror. But I was no longer interested in the tattoo or felt the slight burning across my back. ((A female? Are you sure Ilbryn?))

Ilbryn chuckled. ((I think you'll like her. She's a feisty one, and shes got your cynical attitude.))

((You've met her?)) I asked, intending to appear uninterested in the conversation. I shrugged my shoulders, my tense muscles relaxing from the shock of the revelation.

((Of course, cousin.)) He replied, gesturing for his next appointment to enter-A young male, with a half-finished Byoran along his shoulder, to enter. ((Who do you think did her outline? And she's already been awarded quite a few leaves from her previous work. Didn't you meet up with her yet?))

((No.)) I replied dully, crossing to the door. ((I'm on my way now, to complete her initial evaluation. Then we will see how suited to this lifestyle she is.))

The rain had begun to pound outside and it seemed like an omen of sorts, the lightning flashing across the sky, illuminating the grounds in an almost foreboding way. I hurried across the grounds to my dormitory, cloak clutched tight against my torso.

This had to be a mistake. Females were not assassins. It was bad enough I had to train a young apprentice, but a female one...I had never heard of such a thing. It had to be a mistake. I kept repeating the words in my head as I pushed my way out of the storms violent assault. I booted up my computer, the menu appearing midair in front of me. I began swiping through the menus until I found the correct file.

Aeliral-Raielle-Inaxalim. I grabbed the file midair between my fingers, snapping them apart to reveal all that was Aeliral-Raielle-Inaxalim. Before me, her history appeared in small sections, each depicting another piece to this ambiguity.

I was relieved to see the rain had lessened during my preparatory evaluation and I traversed the grounds once more, finally arriving at the sparring room and cautiously opened the back door. I wanted to observe her before introducing myself, and I headed to a shadowy corner of the room, so as to remain unnoticed. The sparring room was a very large, open space surrounded on all sides by mirrors so that you could observe and correct your movements. The floor was covered in a layer of thick protective material and possessed an unpleasant, musky odor as well, which was worsened by the continuous stench of disinfectant that was used to clean the mats daily of sweat and blood.

I settled myself against a wall and spotted Aeliral to the far right, already in the midst of a duel. I recognized her from her file, only three years old and rather small. But There was something about her that made her beautifully ferocious, in spite of her age and size. Maybe it was the way she moved. She had an energetic fighting style, which allowed her to move and slide along the floor like an agile bird, unaware of gravity's existence or the pull of Andal's core. Even when her opponent leapt to the side, Aeliral was able to change direction seamlessly, chasing after the male as a Kafit might, deadly and determined. But there was something else, I realized, that drew me to her. At first I thought it was her long amethyst colored hair, which was held back with a gold ribbon. Most assassins would cut their hair short, so that it would not obstruct their view, and I thought it strange to see such long locks on an assassin.

But then, Aeliral danced under an overhead lantern, and the light caught in her eyes. It was those eyes that truly entranced me, for they were the fierce gold that reminded me of a friend lost long ago. They were different somehow, not the gentle gold I was used to. They seemed to embody a strange paradox, appearing both soft and unalterable at the same time. As I stared into their depths, I couldn't help but wonder if training her wouldn't be so bad after all.

Aeliral wasn't doing too poorly for an apprentice either. I knew the male she fought against, Avesaran, an assassin of second year status, and Aeliral seemed to be winning, which surprised me immensely. She wasn't as strong as Aversaran, but she was quicker and dodged blow after blow until her opponent was winded. Then with muscular legs, she kicked her opponent into the far wall, until he doubled over in pain.

Once there was a clear victor, Aeliral stood for a few moments before her defeated adversary, panting lightly in the cool air, allowing me to further examine her still form. Her fur was a delicate lavender, and her form was sumptuous and curved. When Avesaran tried to get to his hooves and failed, Aeliral offered him her hand and pulled upwards. I had to admit she fought well, for one so inexperienced. Still, it was unacceptable for an apprentice, who hadn't been on the grounds even a week, to have defeated a second year. I would have to correct that error, as it was now my duty to do so.

((You,)) I hissed violently, emerging from the darkness and startling both the young students. But when both Aeliral and Avesaran looked up at me in confusion, I pointed condescendingly at the latter. ((Did I just watch you, a second year assassin, get your ass kicked by a first year?)) Quickly, the male averted his gaze in embarassment, his cheeks flushing. I wasn't going to have that, so I closed the distance between us, my tail blade lifting the male's chin until he was forced to meet my eyes. ((I asked you a question,)) I hissed. ((So, of course, I expect an answer. Did you or did you not just get your ass handed to you by a newbie?))

((Yes, sir I did.)) Avesaran replied, his thoughts barely a whisper. When I finally lowered my blade, the male stared back down at the floor, humiliation turning his cheeks a dark blue.

((This is completely unacceptable, Avesaran,)) I said, and the male winced at my condescending tone. ((Get me your progress pad. I'm putting you down for five demerits, to be repaid by the end of the week. Either in the sparring room or the obstacle course, your choice. But she shouldn't be able to beat you just by flying around like an Ateawk.))

((But, sir!)) Avesaran protested, his thoughts concerned. He had probably earned quite a few demerits already, and was worried that he wouldn't be able to pay them back, at least by the end of the week, but it was the male's own damn fault that he risked a demotion, and i felt no sympathy.

((Now!)) I hissed. ((Argue with me, and I'll add another five.))

Then, when the male scurried away towards his backpack, I turned to my new apprentice. I was momentarily startled by the female's appearance, both smug and overly confident, which was unusual for an apprentice in their first week of training. Normally, our newest members were jumpy creatures, easily intimidated and quite shy. But not Aeliral, it seemed, for she had a cocky look to her eyes, triumphant and proud. It was a little disgusting and I would have to begin by doing away with that narcissistic attitude.

((Wipe that ugly smirk off your face,)) I told her, watching as her eyes became perplexed, though the reason was lost on me. ((Then turn around, cross your arms and stand still.))


End file.
